Double Jeopardy
by Firniswin
Summary: Lassiter and Shawn have never been the closest of friends, well, ok, that word isn’t even in Lassiter’s dictionary. But when Shawn Spencer is kidnapped and a ransom is left at Lassiter’s house, Carlton begins to realize just how much the Psychic means t
1. Chapter One: Black, White, and Red!

**Double Jeopardy **

**By Firniswin**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Angst/Drama/ActionAdventure**

**Summary: Lassiter and Shawn have never been the closest of friends, well, ok, that word isn't even in Lassiter's dictionary. But when Shawn Spencer is kidnapped and a ransom is left at Lassiter's house, Carlton begins to realize just how much the Psychic means to him and the team. It's a race against time to find the department's favorite psychic, but will they find him in time and will Lassiter be willing to pay the price to get the always annoying Shawn Spencer back?**

**Warnings: None. There is no slash. As this is a Shawn/angst fic, there may be some gruesomeness later on. But for now, suspense and violence is the only thing you need to worry about. Also, I know nothing about mysteries, policemen, or psychics. Whatever is in this fic, I am taking from the show- so please, keep that in mind while reading. Name of the story may change later, so keep that in mind. If you want to follow it, make sure to author alert me or the story or write down my pen name. Don't write down the name of the story. Thanks!**

**A/N: SO, here's the deal. To my LOTR readers. I love you all so much! Ya, I know I haven't shown it of late. But seriously, I just don't feel the desire to write LOTR fan fics anymore. I don't know why, I guess maybe I'm just burned out. I am going to leave My last LOTR story on here so that people may still read it and, if I ever get the urge, so I may update if this writer's block get's unblocked. I am sorry. I never wanted to be one of those people who starts a story and leaves it hanging but, unfortunately, I am. So- with that in mind- be forewarned reader's of this story, if I get bored, I may stop and ya… so let's pray that doesn't happen. It is very hard and somewhat tedious to update stories, but I will do my best. Maybe I will give myself a cookie every time I update. LOL. Anyway- enjoy the story and again, I am truly sorry for the leaving the other one unfinished.**

**Chapter One**

**_Black, white, and… red!_**

He couldn't ignore the shrill ringing and though he desperately wanted to, Lassiter quickly sat up in his bed, eyes blinking owlishly.

He let the alarm go on, not caring that it blared angrily.

Carlton couldn't remember the last time he'd been so tired.

Usually he was so chipper- so ready to go, but this morning he just wanted nothing more than to curl back under the blankets and go back to sleep.

But Lassiter knew better.

He had a job and he'd be darned if he missed work today. He'd never missed a day of work before, not ever as a teenager, why start now.

Rolling to his side, he scratched his side and stumbled to the front door to grab the paper.

Opening the front door, he stooped to grasp the paper, stretching out his long frame and yawning.

Retreating inside to get coffee, Lassiter opened the paper and put it on the counter without giving it a glance.

The smell of the wonderful chocolate vanilla scent made Carlton smile and he breathed it in, bringing it close to take a nice swig.

Turning on his heel, Lassiter's sharp blue eyes moved to the paper and he stopped, cup to his mouth and eyes wide as he now saw the red writing scrawled over the inside of his paper.

Tightening his grip on the cup, he put it on the counter and approached the paper, swallowing the coffee he had already drank.

But he didn't even notice the coffee burning his throat or the fact that he hadn't put his coffee cup on the counter at all.

It crashed to the floor, but he didn't notice the burning splatters of hot brew all over his bare feet, all he saw was the deep, dark red scrawl:

_Lassiter, _

_We have the psychic. Follow our demands and you can have him back. We will contact you with our price. Involve the cops if you want, but don't try anything funny. We will know about it. We have the psychic, remember._

Grabbing up the paper quickly, Lassiter ran for his bedroom, completely unsure of what he was going to do.

Groaning, Shawn rolled onto his side and instantly regretted the action.

Sharp pain shot through him and he cried out softly, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could and trying to still his shaking.

It felt like he hadn't eaten in days, though, that didn't bother him too much at the present because he felt like anything he might eat would come straight back up the tube.

He was groggy and for once, he couldn't concentrate and he couldn't remember anything.

It was as though he was in some sort of horrible dream.

In fact, he would have thought it to be a dream except that every fiber of his body was searing with some form of pain; especially his side.

Moving his arm slowly, he touched his ribs carefully and when he pulled his hand away, he felt something smooth and liquid-like covering his fingers.

He opened his eyes slowly and moved to look at his hand, but could not see anything at all.

Wherever he was, it was completely dark- and cold.

Shawn hadn't noticed before but the floor was concrete and freezing concrete at that.

It felt almost as if his skin might stick to the ground he was laying on, and at the moment, that was not a very reassuring thought.

He tried to gather strength, even a little, to shout for help.

But every time he tried, it came out more softly than a mouse or a whisper of wind. He wasn't sure what was wrong with his vocal cords, but every time he tried to speak, they hurt and sometimes shuddered. Actually, if he didn't know any better, he would say that he felt some sort of low voltage shock run through him, almost like one of those dog collars. The de-barking things. He didn't know what they were called and at the moment, he couldn't have cared any less.

Unsure of how to proceed in this predicament, Shawn swallowed hard, pushing back the pain and nausea and curled tightly in on himself. He tried to warm himself a little, to keep his body from sticking to the floor, but each moment that went by felt colder than the first and soon, all he could concentrate on was the fact that it was completely and utterly cold.


	2. Chapter Two: Two For the Price of One

**Chapter Two**

_**Two Cases For the Price of One**_

Juliet had never been so frustrated in her entire life, at least, not that she could remember.

And she wasn't sure it was frustration either.

She had been calling, or rather trying to call, Carlton for the last hour and though she had left many, many messages, he would not respond.

Dialing his number once more, the junior detective scowled, her bright blue eyes sparkling with annoyance.

The phone call quickly transferred to Carlton's voicemail, which was nothing special. The same well annunciated woman that was on many other people's voicemails. As Juliet listened, she had to admit that the voice was quite beautiful, if not utterly creepy.

Halfway through the electronic spiel about Carlton not being available, O'Hara flipped her phone shut.

Of course, the one case that Carlton decided to be late too was the one at which she most needed him.

And maybe it wasn't Carlton's fault she was so frustrated- it was probably the combination of calling Carlton, Shawn, and Gus and having NONE of them answer.

When she had informed the chief (the only one who had answered her calls so far that morning!), the woman had stated that she was sure Carlton would be there shortly and, as for Shawn Spencer- there was no telling when, where, or how he would show up so she could just forget that option. If he wasn't answering his phone, then that was Shawn Spencer's loss. As for Gus, he was probably at work and couldn't answer his phone. Once he got the message, he'd get in touch with Shawn, who was probably still drooling on his pillow and dreaming of cyber galactic gnomes or whatever men like him dreamt of.

But, this did nothing to calm O'Hara.

Deciding that she could do nothing about her absent colleagues, Juliet began to go over the crime scene by herself. That way, when they came to the scene, she would have something to tell them. No better way to make a man mad than to show him up.

Oddly enough, the crime scene was a small coffee shop downtown. This alone had interest O'Hara, who had always thought of cafés as harbors of peace, this one was definitely far from that.

Bending down, Juliet began to examine the only body on the scene. She was a woman, late twenties with dark brown hair that shimmered in the early morning sunlight.

She was wearing a sundress that showed a little more of her than Juliet would ever dare to flaunt and yet, the junior detective had to admit that the young woman was beautiful. If Shawn was here, no doubt he'd be mourning the loss of another hot woman. This thought made her smile more.

Silly man wasn't here to see this- he was definitely missing out.

There were no visible signs of death, and this surprised O'Hara. The woman looked as if she was only sleeping and yet, she was not breathing and there was no pulse. She was no sleeping beauty- she was a dead one.

"O'Hara!"

Startled, Juliet looked up, her brow furrowing as she watched Carlton move through the sea of blues toward her.

She was about the chastise him, but something stopped her.

For once since she'd met the head detective the man seemed frantic. He still had his signature glower present and yet his piercing blue eyes were more afraid than hard.

Frowning deeply and crossing her arms, trying her best to look upset, Juliet tossed her head.

"Your late. Care to explain?"

The detective sighed, stopping in front of her.

"I do. It's about Spencer-"

"Is he with you because I couldn't get a hold of him, you, or Gus! You men are just impossible to keep track of! I mean really- what were you three doing last night that-"

"Doing? Last night? With Spencer?" Carlton blinked. "I was sleeping, alone, in my house- far, far, far away from Spencer! Are you out of your mind. Why would I be out doing ANYTHING with that…" Lassiter couldn't even find words to describe the psycho psychic. "that… man." he countered and Juliet just rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of Spencer though-" Carlton thrust the morning paper in front of Juliet and she raised an eyebrow at him.

" Shawn want to go to this year's home and garden show?"

Looking down, Lassiter frowned at the add for the Home and Garden show and shook his head, scoffing.

"No!" he flipped the paper over and Juliet gasped.

Gently, the junior detective took the paper and read it slowly, the deep red ink almost mirrored in her clear blue eyes.

Gasping, she looked up at Carlton.

"What is this? Who is this from? Where is Shawn?"

Carlton shrugged.

"How should I know. I just got this this morning." Carlton looked up and stopped talking once he saw the dead body and the disheveled coffee house. "What happened here?!"

Juliet, still in shock of the news gulped and shook her head.

"I don't know. That's why I was calling you and Shawn. The woman's dead and it seems there was a struggle, but not with the woman. Her chair was tipped, but only when she died, the struggle seemed to originate with whoever she was with. A man, I am assuming."

Carlton's brow furrowed as he moved forward, in shock of all that was going on around him.

First Spencer, now this. It was almost too much to thing about.

A part of him knew he shouldn't care about Spencer any more than any normal bystander- and yet, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that the strange, always frustrating, annoying, eccentric man was out there somewhere, maybe injured or worse, and it was, if the note was any indicator, his fault.

Stooping down, he went to rub his head and stopped.

Something shiny caught his eye and he looked over.

Next to the tipped coffee table was a quarter. It was shiny and new and for whatever reason, Carlton couldn't take his eyes from it.

"O'Hara!"

She turned.

Lassiter smiled thinly. "I think I may have just found some evidence."

"It's a quarter, Carlton. Anybody could've dropped a quarter."

"It's a new quarter. Besides, it's still evidence."

He called one of the officers over and had him bag it.

"Come on, we'll take it in, run some prints and we'll interrogate some of the witnesses and while I'm doing that, you can start looking for Spencer, ok."

"But what about this case?"

"We've seen all there is to see here. There is little to no evidence. It would be better if we head back to the station and alert the chief to all this. We can then question the witnesses and run this for prints. The other officers can clean up the rest of this mess."

Overwhelmed with all this, Juliet took a deep breath and moved some stray hair away from her face.

"Ok." she whispered, blinking.

Carlton briefed McNab, giving him as little detail as possible and told him to make certain that any other evidence was properly taken care of. He understood and Lassiter walked to join Juliet at the cars.

He was about to get into his car when he noticed that Juliet was still standing beside her's, staring off into space.

"O'Hara!"

She snapped from her trance to look at Lassiter, her eyes a wave of fear and he could see that tears had pooled in her eyes.

What had happened had finally caught up with her. She wasn't taking Shawn's abduction very well and Lassiter didn't want to risk her getting hurt in some car accident.

"Come on. Get in."

Once she was in the car, Lassiter did his best to smile, though he hadn't really done it in years.

When she appeared frightened, he wiped the smile off his face and looked sternly into her eyes, at this, she seemed visibly calmer.

"It's going to be ok. We will find Spencer, alright?"

She wouldn't acknowledge his words, but Lassiter didn't want to push it. Truth of the matter was, he wasn't completely certain that it would be ok and if he didn't need anything now, it was for his lie to show through.

**TBC.**


	3. Chapter Three: A Dark and Gloomy Future

**Chapter Three**

_**A Dark and Gloomy Future**_

As he opened his eyes, blurry shapes took for and blackness gave way to small bits of light.

There wasn't enough light to see much of anything, but he could see where he was now.

Though he hurt and his mind and stomach were swimming, Shawn quickly took the moment of lucidity to pick up a few things.

He was in some sort of warehouse.

'Typical.' he thought wryly, happy to feel somewhat like his old self again. '99.9% of crimes take place in warehouses…'

Scanning the area, he saw boxes and boxes.

'Probably filled with cocaine or … opium….or something…' he felt his body quake beneath him and his heart skipped strangely in his chest. But not because he was afraid. No, this was something else- something deeper.

Moving away from his body's issues, he focused to see if there were any clues as to where he was.

Looking up, he saw a window where the light was coming from.

The sun was shining over him and, if he had not been tied to a chair with some sort of electric chain of death around his neck, it might have actually been pleasant.

"Hello, Mr. Spencer."

Startled, Shawn jumped, well, more like wobbled since he wasn't able to jump being strapped to a chair as he was.

Not about to talk for fear that the tazer doggy collar would electrocute him, Shawn stayed silent but peered into the darkness, looking for the owner of the voice.

Suddenly, a pair of hands now had hold of his neck.

"It's funny how things can sneak up on you, even when you are looking for them…" the voice, decidedly female trailed off.

Another set of hands were near him, but this time, they were messing with the collar.

Certain it was about to be set to the "burnt toast" setting, Shawn closed his eyes and waited for the painful end.

He was surprised when it slid off his neck and a hand wrapped smoothly around the burned neck flesh.

He wanted to howl, but he couldn't. He opened his mouth to speak and yet, nothing came out save a soft hiss.

"Don't worry, your voice will come back in a few minutes. For now," the hand scrubbed his hair gently. "Just rest."

'Rest?' Shawn gulped, frowning. ''Cause I always find comfort when psychopathic idiots abduct me!'

Oblivious to his thoughts, the figure removed her hand from his head and waltzed slowly in front of Shawn, a smile on her delicate face.

He had been right of course, she was a woman- and a stunning woman!

She had long beautifully shaped legs and a thin, but curvy body. Her face was simple, but elegant and he hair was long and dark. She wore a long dress and matching gloves that were black in color, almost matching to her hair.

Shawn had a feeling that he would probably develop Stockholm syndrome during the duration of his abduction and he wasn't certain he would dislike it.

The woman eyed him slyly, leaning against some crates.

"You know, you don't look much like the psychic type." she pursed her lips.

Swallowing hard, Shawn opened his mouth.

"Y-You don't look much like a kidnapper-" he stopped. "Abductor? Abductress?" he pondered a moment and she sighed.

"I remember now what the collar was for…"

"I think we'll go with abductor. I am, after all, not a child and so it wouldn't be KIDnapping-"

Something cracked against his skull, sending brilliant stars in the line of vision.

Shawn gasped, doubling over as the light danced divinely around his head.

"Now, now!" he felt a soft finger grab his chin, raising it. "Let's not be a bother, hmm? After all, you are not the one I have grievances against. No, no." she came closer to Shawn again, her eyes wandering over him and for once, Shawn was just a little frightened of this woman.

Yes, she was attractive, but any woman who captured a man and put an electric collar on him… well, enough said.

"Carlton Lassiter." she cooed the name and it was somewhat disgusting.

Shawn had never heard a woman say Lassie's name like that and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to again.

"It's a wonderful name. A beautiful name." she sighed. "He was going to be mine, you know." she slinked forward sighing. "But then again, let's not deal with the past when we have so much future to cover." she leaned into Shawn, pressing him back so that his wounded side touched the arm of the chair and rubbed it painfully.

He winced and closed his eyes, moving his head to the side, away from her.

In any other circumstance, being tied to a chair and having a beautiful woman's lips just an inch from his own would have been inviting.

Then again, the women he was thinking of were not certifiably insane either.

"I think we should start with yours. Sad to say you don't have much of it left" her breath was warm in his ear and smelled of vanilla.

"Much of what?" Shawn murmured, lost in the aroma. Odd, such an innocent smell, vanilla. It seemed not to fit her very well.

Rising to her full height, her features turned stark and she turned to a burly man standing at Shawn's side.

"Future, Mr. Spencer. You don't have much future left- unless of course you see something different." his captor smiled wickedly. "You're the psychic, you tell me."

Shawn gulped and, looking to each side and back at her, frowned.

"No, I think you'd be right." he looked up to the sky and sighed. "I don't see much future left for me."

She smiled at Shawn and he wanted to shudder.

"Get Lassiter on the phone. I think it's about time we gave him a bit of reassurance that his little psychic is still alive. I mean, after all, what good would a dead one be."

TBC.


	4. Chapter Four: Who Ya Gonna Call?

**Chapter Four**

_**Who Ya Gonna Call… Lassie!**_

Carlton stared forward as the witness left the room, his mind in other places- namely wherever Spencer had managed to be taken to. Sure, he wasn't necessarily on friendly terms with Shawn and he didn't normally care much for the loud psychic, but when a member of his team was in trouble, like it or not, Lassiter couldn't let anything happen to them. And while Spencer wasn't really a part of his team, he just honestly couldn't think of him in any other way.

The man was always at the Santa Barbara Police Department looking for a case and more often then not, Lassiter could find him snooping around HIS crime scenes and HIS witnesses.

On being reminded of the witnesses Lassiter sat back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and groaning.

"Well, at least there's only…." Juliet stopped and looked at her chart. "fifteen more…" she winced, obviously hoping that the number was significantly less than fifteen.

"Just shoot me." Carlton whispered, rolling his sea blue eyes and falling onto the table in front of him.

"Somehow, I don't think that would help…"

Lassiter looked up and eyed O'Hara.

The woman smiled and averted her eyes, turning around to leave the interrogation room.

"No please!" Lassiter jumped back, pushing away his chair. "J-Just don't send in anymore yet. I have to breathe a moment." he sighed and she nodded in understanding.

Since leaving the coffee shop crime scene, Lassiter and O'Hara had sent the quarter to the lab, checked in with McNab looking for more evidence, called Burton Guster and Henry Spencer- neither of whom had felt like answering their phones because all he got was an answering machine, something at which O'Hara had been rather peeved-, questioned about seven witnesses and kept an ear open for calls concerning Shawn Spencer- of which there'd been none.

As for the other witnesses at the coffee shop, it was an odd cornucopia of non-detail oriented people. Out of the seven they'd interviewed so far, none had a detailed description that matched the others.

And, while the all had agreed that someone had been abducted, most of them couldn't remember the exact height, build, or even hair color of the victim.

All in all, it was chaos, to say the least.

"How can no one remember what happened or even a simple hair color?!" Carlton whispered, rising from his seat to pace a moment.

"Maybe… they were all high…" O'Hara guessed wildly.

"High." Lassiter repeated, turning slowly to face her. "High on what, O'Hara? Coffee beans?"

The junior detective shrugged and pulled her clipboard closer to her body and opened the door.

"I'll send the next witness in, ok." it wasn't a question and Lassiter rolled his eyes.

Sighing, Lassiter scratched his raven head.

A creak at the door made the man want to groan outwardly, but he forced it inside and waved to the chair.

"Sit down."

"Um… ok, but you have a call."

Quickly Lassiter turned to see O'Hara standing in the doorway.

Jumping to his feet, Lassiter ran past the junior detective and ran down the hall, Juliet in tow.

He ran all the way to his desk and skidded into his chair, picking up the receiver he swallowed and breathed deeply.

"Lassiter." his voice was stark. Void of any emotion.

There was nothing but silence on the other end for long moments, but then a hoarse voice answered.

"Lassie." it was a mere whisper, but Carlton knew immediately who it was. He pressed into the phone receiver. All these years of putting up with Shawn Spencer and now, he could hardly breath. Surprised at how worried he felt, Lassiter swallowed and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself.

"Spencer?" At this, Carlton could feel Juliet press into him, trying to hear. "Spencer? Is that you? Are you alright? Where are you?"

"Ya, it's me." the head detective was surprised at how weak and thready the voice at the other end was. It didn't sound like Spence at all, it was quiet and calm, almost as if Spencer had a twin brother and he was tame and mild mannered. In truth, the only way Lassiter had known it was Spencer was because of what the psychic had called him. No one else called him Lassie and he never wanted anyone else to! He didn't even want Spencer too- but that'd never stopped him!

"I don't know where I am." Spencer continued softly, his voice becoming more and more hoarse. "A warehouse somewh-"

A loud cry was heard on the other end and Lassiter and Juliet both heard it.

The cry was silenced abruptly and Lassiter looked over to see tears streaming from Juliet's eyes.

He wanted to tell her it was ok, wanted to reassure her, but at that moment, a soft silky voice came on the other end of the line.

"Hello Carlton," the voice purred and Lassiter winced in repulsion. "remember me?"

Juliet turned to Carlton who was now completely stunned to silence. She could see that he was racking his brain, but he was completely clueless.

"Who is this?" he snapped coldly. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"My goodness. You and your psychic are so inquisitive! Is that how all of you are at SBPD? Hmmm?"

"Where is Spencer?" Carlton didn't stop. He pressed into the phone.

"Patience, patience. You'll get your little soothsayer once I get what I want. Understood?"

"We don't give criminals their demands!" Juliet had grabbed the receiver from Lassiter and was shouting into the phone, her face flushed with rage.

Looking up, Carlton saw that the entire department had stopped what they were doing and was now watching Juliet intently.

Giving a reassuring smile, he waved shortly.

The head detective grasped the phone, prying it out of O'Hara's grip with a sharp yank.

"O'Hara!" he chided before pressing the phone back to his ear, he sighed. "I'm listening."

**TBC.**

A/N: So, I am going to start updating as much as I can because on Thursday, I am leaving for Spain. I will be back in two weeks. So... no worries. I am just in Spain, I do plan to update and finish the story once I get home. :D

By the way! Thanks so much for all the reviews and author alerts and story alerts! It means a lot to me that you all like the story. :D

Blessings!


	5. Chapter Five: Ketchup, Blood,or Gerbils?

**Chapter Five**

**Ketchup, Blood, or Gerbils?**

"Ya, Gus here."

"Gus, thank God! Where HAVE you been?!"

Burton Guster blinked rapidly and snorted.

"I was working! Normal people do it all the time. It is very helpful to keep a steady income. Who is this, by the way?"

"Juliet O'Hara from SBPD. We've been calling you all day! Where'd you last see Shawn?"

Gus frowned, pulling the phone away form his ear and looking at it questioningly.

"Shawn? This morning, at the office. Why?"

There was silence on the other end and Gus' heart skipped a beat.

He'd never gotten one of those calls before, the ones where police visited your house and took off their hat. They usually started out by saying: "I'm sorry." Same with doctors when they told you that you had only three months to live- why did everything bad always start with "I'm sorry."

"Gus, I'm sorry," Juliet sighed and Gus felt his world begin to spin. "but we need you to come in. It's urgent. We need to brief you."

"Brief me? What is this, some military operation? What is going on Juliet?" Gus felt his throat collapsing, his words coming out in shorter and shorter gasps.

He was already up out of his desk and on his way towards the door.

"Gus, I can't tell you over the phone. It'd be better if you came in. Maybe you can help us."

"How am I going to help- Shawn is usually the one you guys call when you need an opinion- I'm just his side-kick!"

Gus was in his car, starting the engine, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Sure, Shawn was a pain in the rear sometimes and usually was harder to baby-sit than five two-year olds on coffee drips, but he was also Gus' best friend. Sometimes he wasn't sure why, but the truth remained that he was.

"You spend the most time with him- you might be able to tell us where he is."

"What do you mean 'where he is'? Jules?"

"Just come in, ok. We'll see you when you get here."

"Ok, ok." he flipped his phone shut and shifted to reverse. "This better not be some prank, Shawn."

"We need to try and call Henry Spencer again- he has a right to know what's going on."

"Right to know? Pfft. He lost his right to know the minute he switched his cell phone off."

"Funny things, cell phones."

Both Carlton and Juliet turned in their seats to see Henry standing over them, his eyes showing rage, so much so that it was probably a good thing that Shawn was missing, otherwise the man might have throttled him.

"Speaking of cell phones…" Henry smiled in that way he did when he was upset. "Can you tell me where my son might be because he has my cell phone and I need it back. Then, maybe you could call me and inform me what's going on, though, I am not sure why you need to do that because, incase you haven't noticed- I don't work here anymore."

Juliet gulped, blinking.

Lassiter didn't miss a beat.

"Your son has been abducted, Mr. Spencer. We have been trying to call you-"

"Ya, I gathered that. So why do you think my son's been abducted? You're sure he's not tricking you because, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to one up a whole police department."

"Uh, no, sir. It's not prank."

Retrieving the morning paper, Juliet presented it to Henry, looking so sympathetic that Lassiter thought she might burst from compassion.

"Oh, come on. This is your evidence! I could do this with ketchup-"

Lassiter coughed.

"That's not ketchup- we had it tested."

"Tested? What is it? I don't think he'd use a cat or dog, although, he might use a gerbil… have you seen his place, plenty of mice, I'm sure-"

"It's not animal blood." Carlton shut his eyes. "It's Shawn's."

Looking up, Juliet saw that Henry's eyes had now moved to the paper and he was touching it lightly, mouth stern.

Lassiter cleared his throat solemnly.

"Sir, er, Mr. Spencer, we need to ask you a few questions. Just about Shawn's last whereabouts."

Henry looked up into Juliet's eyes.

"You are sure it's Shawn's?"

Juliet nodded solemnly and Lassiter had Henry follow him back to the interrogation room.

The coffee house witnesses could wait, for now, they had to find Spencer or give the kidnapper her wish before it was too late.

**TBC.**

**A/N: Probably my last update for two weeks. Enjoy and wait in suspense for my return. Lol. Oh, and to answer a quick question, yes, it was sort of a reference to Ghostbusters, but not because there is Ghostbusters in the chapter. It was just the first title that came to mind.**


	6. Chapter Six: What's In A Name?

**Chapter Six**

**What's In A Name?**

Henry Spencer grabbed at the back of his head, shutting his eyes as he paced back and forth.

No parent should ever have to hear that their child had been abducted, no matter how old that said child was. And in Shawn's case, sometimes there was no telling how old that boy was. Usually it ranged between ten and seventeen- it was amazing to him that the man's birth certificate said he was actually over twenty-five!

"Mr. Spencer, please."

"How did this happen? When did this happen?" Henry leaned against the table, glaring at Carlton and Juliet. "Where is my son?"

"If we knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation-"

"I know." Henry backed away, breathing deeply. "It's just a bit difficult to know Shawn is in danger and there is nothing I can do about it."

Carlton raised an eyebrow and Henry sighed.

"I know, it seems like I don't really care about Shawn, but he's my son! I only act that way because…" he chuckled dryly. "much of the time he can be a pain in my butt and I am honestly not always proud of what he does- but I swear, if anyone hurts Shawn-"

Rising to his feet, Carlton put a hand up.

"Please, Mr. Spencer. Calm down. I understand what you are feeling-"

Henry laughed.

"Frankly, son. I don't think you do!"

"Alright you two!" Juliet was up on her feet now, straddling herself between the two and leaning over the table. She looked between Henry and Carlton and raised any eyebrow. "This is not going to get Shawn back, so I suggest we get back to the matter at hand."

Both men looked at Juliet and then looked to each other.

Henry nodded firmly and Carlton sighed, reseating himself in his chair.

"So, Mr. Spencer- where did you last see Shawn?"

"Um.." Henry stammered, racking his brain. "Two nights ago, at my place. He was over for dinner. We got in a little fight and he stormed off and grabbed my cell phone in the process. He didn't mean to, thought it was his I guess. Once I saw what had happened I had tried to call him, but he didn't answer."

"He didn't try to get a hold of you before then?"

"No… he's been busy…"

"Busy?" Juliet raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Henry scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, he's been quite involved with a young woman lately- that's why we got in a fight. It was over that girl."

"Do you know the girl's name?" Carlton leaned forward.

"No, I mean, I know her first name is Rebecca- but he never told me her last name. He said that I might scare her away." Henry sighed and sat down, leaning back in his chair. "I was just concerned. He was talking serious about this girl…"

"Like marriage?" Juliet's eyes widened. She'd never thought that Shawn Spencer would be capable of anything more than a purely physical relationship.

"Not quite. He hadn't brought that up yet, but he was talking about her in a way I've never heard him talk about a woman before. He never once talked about her body-"

"Not once?!" Even Lassiter was amazed.

Henry shifted and scratched his chin.

"Ok, ok. That's wistful thinking, I mean, this is Shawn we are talking about." he smiled thinly. "But…" he trailed off before sitting up in his chair and leaning, his elbows on the table. "…there was something different about this."

Carlton squinted, obviously in thought. He knew the kidnapper was a woman, but could it be possible that she had lured Shawn in and then abducted him, why not just do it immediately.

"How often do he and this girl see each other?"

Henry blew out a puff of air.

"At least once a day. They met every morning for coffee- or, in Shawn's case, pineapple Italian sodas… sometimes pineapple mochas." Henry made a face and shrugged.

"Coffee?" Lassiter turned quickly to O'Hara who had already turned to him.

"What?" Henry frowned.

Lassiter swallowed.

"Do you know what the girl looks like?"

Henry blinked, still unsure of where this was going. Slowly he reached into his back pocket.

"Ya, I mean, I have a picture. Shawn left it at my place. I was gonna give it back to him the next time I saw him, but.." he shrugged with a short smile. "I haven't had the chance to give it back."

Lassiter took the picture and studied it a moment before rising to his feet.

"O'Hara, we'll want to go check on the print match on that quarter now."

Juliet raised an eyebrow, but stood up.

"Ok? Is now the best time?"

Carlton flipped the photo to O'Hara and almost immediately her eyes went wide as she studied the woman in the portrait.

Backing up, she stumbled to the door.

"I'll go, right now."

Henry looked between Carlton and the now empty space where Juliet had been.

"I'm sorry, but what does a quarter have to do with this girl and my son? What's going on, Detective Lassiter?"

Leaning forward, Carlton looked into Henry's eyes, sympathetic yet stern as always.

"This woman, Rebecca, was found dead outside a coffee house this morning."

"So, you are saying my son was abducted at a coffee house and none of your witnesses remember anything about the crime?!" Henry was following Lassiter down the hall, shouting.

Carlton rolled his eyes. He knew he could have seen this coming if he'd looked ahead far enough.

The police station was abuzz. Officers were running to and fro, carrying residual evidence from the coffee house crime scene and setting up white boards to write down extra information.

All the armed policemen were making certain that they had their firearms loaded and ready for duty, in case any sudden finds should lead them on a manhunt, or a womanhunt- as the case was.

"Mr. Spencer!" Lassiter stopped and spun around, effectively stopping the ex-cop. "We are doing everything we can, alright. We have the evidence, the prints on the quarter matches your son and we have the witnesses from the coffee house. We have called Gus and he is on his way and we are in contact with the kidnapper- at least, we were. We are waiting for a call back, at the moment, we are doing all we can."

Henry took a deep breath.

Reaching forward, Lassiter grabbed the older man's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

"Why don't you just sit over there, near my desk. We will keep you up to date."

Reluctantly, Henry nodded and, giving Carlton a sad smile, he moved towards the head detective's desk and took a seat.

With that out of the way, Lassiter moved to take a step but jumped back when his body impacted a slightly smaller one.

"Whoah! Hands off man!"

Eyebrows raised, Carlton put up his hands in surrender.

Burton Guster stepped back, eyeing Lassiter warily.

"Where's Shawn?" he snapped.

"I trust O'Hara has briefed you-" Carlton was cut off as Gus shook his head emphatically.

"No! Juliet told me that some crazy woman has abducted Shawn and has also brought forward her demands and they have to do with you!" Gus' brown eyes traveled up and down Lassiter and both men just stood in silence a moment.

Neither were particularly fond of each other but, unlike Spencer, Carlton could tolerate his less energetic side-kick. Gus was reasonable, normal. He was a man of realism and normalcy and on top of that he was very grounded.

"Yes, that would be about it. We haven't located Spencer yet- but we are doing our best."

"I bet you are!" Gus frowned. "Everyone in this city knows how you feel about Shawn and ya, I'll admit he's a pain in the butt, but he's my best friend and I'm not going to stand around while he gets killed!"

"Hey! Hey!" the SBPD head detective glowered. "I may not be Spencer's number one fan or a follower of his psychic mumbo jumbo! But I am a detective! It is my duty to protect the population of Santa Barbara and Shawn Spencer is definitely included in that description."

Gus didn't say anything else, but eyed Lassiter.

"If you wouldn't mind, I have to get to work. You can go wait with Mr. Spencer by the phone on my desk. I will brief you if anything else comes up."

"Oh, no you don't!" the man stepped closer to Carlton. "I may not be psychic and I may not be an official detective, but I have helped this department in the past. I think that qualifies me as a consultant."

Lassiter didn't say anything.

He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with Gus. Sure, he was right. But he never let Shawn help solve cases cause he wanted him to, the man just always found his own way in. He was a fox. A snake. Maybe something in the middle… Snox or a fake. A fake! Carlton liked that. He thought that accurately described Shawn Spencer.

"Then it's settled. Glad we could agree in something detective!" Gus smiled, though it was not a friendly smile. It was a "thanks-so-much-for-letting-me-help-even-though-I-know-you-don't-want-me-to" smile.

Lassiter wanted to slap himself when he realized he'd been nodding to himself. Gus had taken it as an agreement to his statement. Darn.

"You know, you are quite a handsome young man." Shawn winced as the woman purred in his ear. "If I wasn't so set on my Carlton, I'd be happy to settle with you."

Spencer gulped.

"Thank you, I think."

She didn't respond but instead continued to circle him, like a vulture waiting for the last breath. It was odd to think of her in that way, yet it seemed to fit. She was, after all, dressed for the park. If she'd been bald, it would have fit rather perfectly, though she wouldn't be quite as stunning bald.

"So, Mr. Spencer. I've been dying to meet a real psychic." she raked a fingernail beneath his chin, causing him to cringe. "All those phone and television psychics are obviously scams, but I do believe in the supernatural."

"That's good because I am certain the supernatural believes in you." Shawn wasn't sure what he'd just said, but it sounded good.

"Alright, here's a chance to prove you're not a fake. If you are not a fake, then I see no problem in prolonging your existence. If you are faking- well. I think it's safe to say that I do not tolerate fakers."

"Hit me with your best shot."

The dark haired woman stopped in front of him, watching his reaction. She was startled to say the least when he remained calm and cool.

In normal conditions, a captor would be shaking, quivering, dying even. But not Shawn Spencer. He was obviously pale and quite thin. His wounds were dark and deep and mostly obvious, and yet he was going strong.

She smiled.

"Alright Mr. Psychic." she wandered away, sitting on a crate and crossing her delicate legs. "I know I haven't said it in your presence, but it should be easy for you…What is my name?"

Shawn hid his startled expression well.

If she really believed he was a psychic, why would want him to know her name? Once she called Lassiter again, it was obvious that Lassie-face would want to talk to him and he could easily tell him her name… that was, unless she didn't plan to let him talk to Lassie again.

He gulped.

Closing his eyes, Shawn bent forward in his chair, pulling at the ropes at his arms and wincing as his wounded side burned.

Searching through all his memories of the past day and a half wasn't hard. He remembered traveling to the warehouse, he remembered talking to Lassiter, he even remembered quite a few long, cold hours in his holding chamber, which he had now deduced was some sort of meat locker.

Zoning in on the memory of traveling to the warehouse, he focused on what was being spoken in the front of the van.

He remembered being cold and hurting, but getting the voices to translate clearly was a feat.

Whatever they had kept him on had been strong stuff, that was certain.

_"I don't know, Jones. The coffee house was packed, but I think the drugs really messed with the people's heads."_

_"And what about that girl, Rebecca? She dead?"_

_"Yes. I darted her. She was not use to me anymore and besides, I never had the money to pay her."_

_"And what about me Shelby? How do I know I'm not gonna end up like that?"_

_"Come on, Jonesy! Would I treat my best man that way?"_

_"I'd hope not, but ya know, Shell. You've been acting strange lately…"_

_"That's just because I am excited. My dreams are soon to becoming true! So soon!"_

_"Mrs. Shelby Lassiter. Honestly, I don't know what you see in that man. He's a stiff."_

_"No… He's wonderful. You just have to get underneath that rough skin and gun holster. He was my best friend in college."_

_"So… why do you need to kidnap his psychic to get to him? I mean, if you were best buds…"_

_"Mind your own business Jones. I don't need to share these personal things with you! Now drive! We have to get to the base before he wakes up…"_

The voices faded and Shawn opened his eyes, breathing deeply.

For whatever reason that had drained him.

He was a great deal more exhausted then before and his throat suddenly felt thick.

"Shelby." he whispered hoarsely. "Your names is Shelby."

"Impressive." Shelby smiled, her thin lips tight with excitement.

She stalked forward slowly.

"Well, Mr. Spencer. Now that you have proven yourself, I suppose we can let you hang around another day." nodding to Jones, the man stepped forward and with a sharp clip had re-snapped the collar around Shawn's throat.

Shawn wanted to struggle, but he knew it'd be useless. He would have to wait for an opportune moment and then, he could run.

Jones grabbed the back of the chair and tipping it back into two legs, he began to drag it away into the darkness.

**TBC.**

**A/N: Ok, this is for sure the last update. See you all in two weeks. **


	7. Chapter Seven: Get Me to the Warehouse

**Chapter Seven**

_Get Me to the Warehouse On Time_

"Her demands are what?"

Carlton leaned over his desk, trying to be enthralled with his paperwork. He really didn't need to hear Juliet telling Mr. Spencer and Burton Guster what their kidnapper had wanted.

It was so stupid. So… weird.

What person kidnaps someone as a bargaining chip for marriage?

He pondered this and realized that there were several movies and musicals in which that sort of thing happened- not this exactly, but close enough.

"Who'd wanna marry Lassiter?!" Gus burst out laughing and Carlton turned to glower at him.

Juliet looked puzzled and a bit embarrassed by Gus' outburst and Henry had raised an eyebrow in Carlton's direction.

Rising to his feet, the head detective cleared his throat and Gus stopped laughing and suddenly looked a bit sheepish.

"I'll have you know that I have courted many a lady!" Lassiter pulled at his collar. " I Just haven't found the right one yet."

Gus smirked.

"I think you should go for this one. She seems to be a real keeper!"

Again, the assistant was chuckling quietly and Carlton sat down firmly in his chair, tapping his pencil to his head.

"Do we even know where they are?" Gus had stopped laughing now and was looking at both detectives with concern. "How are we supposed to get Shawn back if we can't find him?"

Henry looked at the group and again, he raised an eyebrow, looking at the detectives for answers.

It was frustrating to Carlton that Mr. Spencer was not helping them- it was after all **his** son they were trying to find. But, then again, Lassiter couldn't blame the man. Spencer was annoying, loud, and a pain in the lower hind regions, but! He was Henry's son, his only son. His only child. The man was probably sick with worry, although, he would never tell anyone.

"The only thing we know," Juliet spoke up, obviously unaware to Carlton's mental ramblings. "is that they are at a warehouse, somewhere…" she frowned, realizing how positively hopeless that sounded.

There was silence for a moment and then Lassiter had an idea.

"Hey, if Spencer **is** psychic- how come he couldn't tell us where he was immediately? Shouldn't he know? Wouldn't _the spirits_ be telling him where he is?" Carlton swiveled his stool so that he faced Gus and Henry.

Henry remained stoic as ever and shrugged.

"I don't even try and pretend to understand my son's 'gift'" he grunted, turning back to stare at the phone.

Something glinted in Gus' eyes, but Carlton couldn't place the emotion.

"She knows he's psychic!" Gus blurted out. "Maybe she had him in some special holding cell- something that tunes him out from the spirits. Besides, it doesn't work like that. He doesn't just immediately know things. He has to… er… petition the spirits for their knowledge. Sometimes they aren't very talkative…" Gus gulped silently, waiting to see what Lassiter said.

The detective just snorted and rolled his eyes.

O'Hara however was enthralled.

"Wow, I never realized it took so much work to be a psychic!"

Gus sent a silent prayer of thanks.

"Oh, yes. It's mentally, physically, and spiritually taxing to the body."

"Hey!"

All eyes turned to Henry who was now standing over the phone.

"All this talking isn't doing anything to get Shawn back. I saw we formulate a plan- at least, that's the way we used to do it back when I was on the force! We didn't just sit around and discuss the workload of the Spiritual realm!"

"What are we supposed to do? We can't just give this woman what she wants?" O'Hara cringed. "We'd be putting both Shawn and Carlton in danger!"

"Shawn is already in danger!" Gus snapped, stepping closer to the group. "He could be dead!"

"She wouldn't kill him yet. She still has a chance to get me. I mean, we haven't declined the offer yet." Lassiter rubbed his temples.

"Criminals aren't like merry-go-rounds detective. You don't just wait till your favorite pony is open and then hop on! Criminals are aloof and not to be trusted." Henry had pulled out his 'I used to do this, so don't tell me lies' voice and Carlton glared at him.

"She's insane, yes-" the head detective began.

"Try psychotic-" Gus interrupted, staring at Carlton.

"Fine- she's a mad woman! But she also has a goal. This isn't a mad game of killer tag- it's strategic. She has motives, she has a plan. She isn't going to kill her number one bargaining chip. Once she does that, she knows she looses her prize."

"So what do we do?" O'Hara stated again, crossing her arms thoughtfully.

Lassiter sighed, rising to his feet.

"We give her the wedding of a lifetime."

**_TBC!_**

**_A/N:_** I know it's short. But I wanted to make sure you all knew I wasn't dead. Besides, I've already gotten "UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!" reviews, so I figured to be nice and update. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. I will try and update soon.


	8. Chapter Eight: Tuxes, Guest Lists

**Chapter Eight**

_**Tuxes, Guest Lists, and Guns**_

Henry pursed his lip and leaned back against the wall, his eyes traveling up and down Lassiter.

"You look sharp." he admitted, wondering what his own son would look like all decked out in his Sunday best, ready to marry the woman of his dreams.

Unfortunately for Henry, he feared he'd never get that opportunity, and not only because Shawn at the moment was in a horrible life and death situation, but because he was not the type for serious relationships.

He'd been completely surprised when his son had been so serious about Rebecca and she was dead now.

Henry couldn't imagine how Shawn would take that once he found out. He'd been so serious, so… in love, if that was possible.

"What's wrong?" Lassiter frowned, checking himself over in the mirror.

Gus stepped away from the wall and looked the detective up and down and shrugged.

" I don't know man." he faltered. "It's just so… weird- seeing you in a tux, I mean."

"Ya well, don't get used to it!" Carlton sneered, tugging at his vest and jacket.

"Well, you look good and your lady will be smitten- that's for sure!"

The detective sighed.

"Great. That's all I need."

*****************

Juliet breathed out a sigh, refocusing her eyes on the papers and photos on her desk.

She had to admit, at the moment, she would much rather be out with the boys, picking out the tux for Lassiter. 'Cause really, who wouldn't want to see the SBPD's head detective in something other than his normal suites?

Juliet knew Carlton was handsome and had thought of him indifferent lights before than as just a partner and co-worker, but his complete lack of romance and harsh manner always kept her a cruise liner's length away from that boat.

Still though, it would have been a blast helping him find a tux. Especially considering the situation was so completely hysterical and horrible at the same time.

No doubt she was worried about Shawn, but it was too funny to think that some woman was stalking Carlton and using the psychic as leverage to get Lassiter to marry her! Honestly! How often did that happen?

Scratching her head, Juliet leaned back, stretching.

Suddenly, the phone caught her attention.

It rang ominously in the quiet police station.

Sweat began to prickle the back of her neck and she reached forward, afraid of who it might be. Afraid they might want to speak with Carlton. What if they were mad when Carlton wasn't there?

She shuddered, thinking of Shawn.

Slowly, as she willed Lassiter to round the corner, she lifted the phone from it's receiver.

A huge part of her hoped it was the head detective himself, and yet, she knew it wasn't. He wouldn't call her on the police station phone. He'd call her cell.

Licking her lips, she placed the phone against her clammy cheek.

"O'Hara." she barked, trying to mimic Lassiter, always admiring the authority he brought, even when just answering the phone.

There was silence on the other end and she gulped, willing her heart to stop beating a million miles a minute.

"Shawn?" she tried, wondering if it was the psychic again. Last time the kidnapper had called, she'd let Shawn be the first one on the phone, maybe it was that way again.

"Sorry." a voice purred. "He's a little… tied up at the moment." her chuckle was cold and Juliet felt her blood boil. "Actually, he's unconscious, I am sure. Anyway- where's Carlton?"

Juliet snarled.

This woman was talking to her as if they were best friends and she was calling to talk to her brother or something. It sickened her.

"He's not here." O'Hara spat. "He's shopping for his tuxedo."

"Ooooo. Wonderful! Make certain he stays traditional. No blue tuxes or pinstripes, alright. Black and white. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good." she laughed a little. "Well, I have some news for him. I have picked out the spot for the wedding, but-" she sighed sadly. "I'm afraid I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Well, dear. I hate to tell you this- but you aren't really invited. It's going to be a small ceremony, you know and I am afraid you just didn't make the invite list."

"Invite list?" O'Hara wanted to scream, but she kept her cool.

"Yes. It's going to be just me, Carlton, and that silly little psychic. Keeping the whole thing under the radar, you know. I mean, I don't want things cancelled too soon." she chuckled. "Well, it's been lovely. Tell Carlton to call me when he gets back. He can use this number. Don't bother trying to trace it or I might just change my mind about the psychic being at the wedding."

Juliet rose to her feet, unsure what to do and feeling suddenly even more hopeless than before.

"Let me talk to Shawn." she pushed.

"He's taking his afternoon nap."

"Let me speak to him!" Juliet shouted, finally losing it.

"Good afternoon, dear."

A click sounded on the other end and Juliet clenched her teeth and looked at the phone. Quickly, the shoved it onto the receiver and, reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and began to dial.

*********************

Shawn couldn't remember a time when he'd hurt so bad.

His entire body burned with cold, not to mention all the wounds that screamed for attention.

Shawn tried to move, tried to get up, but immediately, he cried out and was suddenly thankful that the psycho woman's buzzy collar wasn't around his neck!

Laying on the cold, frozen concrete, Shawn began to think about the things around him. It was the only thing he could do to keep his mind off the pain. It was the only thing he could even imagine doing.

Besides, he had to find a way out and he could only do that if he thought about everything.

But it was so hard.

Each breath shocked his body with a new burst of terrible pain.

Fear like he'd never known plagued him.

Normally, Shawn wasn't afraid of much. He was pretty fearless, and yet, he'd never been in this type of situation before. Kidnapped by a psychotic kidnapper and tortured over and over! It was enough to drive a man mad.

'Come on, Shawn.' he reasoned with himself. 'You can do this. You're Shawn Spencer! You're not afraid of anything!' he felt a new wave of courage overwhelm him and he held to it, not letting his battered body retreat into submission.

His friends were counting on him- especially Lassie! He couldn't let him down! And besides, maybe if he got himself out of this mess the chief would give him some awesome unsolvable case!

Slowly, Shawn began to raise himself to his knees, cringing as the pain in his body screamed, but he would not allow himself to shout. He couldn't let his captor know he was awake or even lucid.

Carefully, Shawn probed his body as he searched his mind for memories of both his male and female captor.

First thing he realized was that his side wasn't just wounded- he'd been shot. No wonder it hurt so bad!

But why had he been shot?

He remembered running and he remembered the man chasing after him- but there was something else. There was a reason he'd shot Shawn instead of just chasing him down.

Another memory flashed through Shawn's brain and he smiled.

It was Jones, that was the man's name. He was rubbing his thigh. And not just gentle rubbing! It was a deep rub.

Shawn had watched enough 'House' to know what kind of rubbing that was!

Jones was lame, not horribly, but enough to make it difficult for him to run after Shawn- that's why he'd shot him. He couldn't catch up and he knew he couldn't, so he'd taken the best route to keep their bargaining chip.

Another memory flashed into Shawn's brain.

_Pain first. Stabbing, paralyzing pain. _

_The world spun and he reached a hand to his side and pulled it away, looking at it. _

_Red dripped from his fingers and he gulped, the world suddenly going hazy. _

_"You idiot!" screaming. He turned his head, but regretted it when pain flashed through him like a lightning bolt. "You shot him!"_

_"He was too fast!" Jones was panting and was now bent over Shawn. _

_The fake psychic look at the man and realized that he was standing awkwardly, favoring one leg over the other. _

_"I didn't hire you to shoot- that is for your protection!"_

_"You also didn't hire a marathon runner!" Jones snapped._

The vision faded and Shawn moved slowly, rising to his feet, stretching his legs slowly, testing them.

He could run if he needed too, but he would need Jones out of the way and it would have to be when Shelby- such a weird name for a kidnapper- was least expecting it.

'But seriously,' Shawn mused. 'What kidnapper/murderer is named Shelby? That just won't do! How about…' he thought hard. 'Killer of Dreams. Almost like Dances with Wolves, but not as friendly.' he thought about this for a moment and shoved it to the side. He'd figure out a name for her later, for now, she'd have to remain Shelby.

Now, he had to figure out a way to get out.

He knew that every few hours, or at least what felt like a few hours, Jones came in to check on him and Shelby was never with him.

Jones brought sedatives to keep Shawn mellow and, obviously, he was due for another dose.

And yes, Jones was a gimp, but he was strong and pretty smart for such a brawny guy. He always managed to get Shawn sedated before he had a chance to even think about trying anything.

So, Shawn realized, he would have to one up the man without giving himself away and he was pretty certain he had a way to do it.

******************

Jones sauntered towered the freezer door, syringe in hand.

He'd gotten pretty tired of doing this by now and all he could think of was the big payday at the end.

And, in his mind, it better be a big payday. He was the one who had to deal with the psychic, so he should be getting a nice sum of money, after all, the man was a nuisance. He was a thirteen year old in a thirty year old's body.

Jones had always thought that by thirty, young men were supposed to be calming down and becoming more adult. This man had made him rethink his theory.

Standing in front of the door, he pulled out his key ring and stuck the key into the lock. It clicked and her removed the exterior lock and, pulling out his flashlight, he opened the door, limping backwards to swing the giant door open.

No sound came from inside and this pleased Jones.

The kid was still out from the last sedative. Music to his ears. He was tired of having to wrestle him to the ground. Or, maybe he'd finally just given in- he wasn't looking too good anymore, that was for sure.

Flashing his light inside, Jones noticed the room was empty.

Growling, he slipped his gun out and stepped inside, searching for Shawn.

Instinctively, he brought his hand to his hidden firearm. He knew that Shelby hated him using it, but every man needed some sort of security and if it was the only way to get that psychic to shut up, by golly, he'd use it!

Inside the room, Jones' couldn't hear a single sound.

It was dark and damp, silent as a grave. It seemed that there wasn't a single living soul inside.

What if Spencer had escaped?

He growled, turning on his heel to go after the man, but as he did, he felt something impact him hard in his leg, and not the good one either.

Gasping, he crumpled to the floor and rolled, the air knocked from his chest.

Quickly, Jones tried to get to his feet, and he managed, but it was difficult and he groaned, glaring at Spencer, who was moving about wildly eyes wild with terror and arms flailing.

He looked to be a man possessed, and considering his profession, that wouldn't surprise Jones. He wasn't too gullible when it came to the world of spirits and such, but he'd rather appease the spirits and not get in trouble than to play the fool and die because he had angered them.

Spencer continued to flail, eyes wide and then, he dropped the floor, hiding the pain that flared inside and began to toss and turn.

"The spirits! They are angry!" he shouted and hissed, leaping to his feet again, but this time, he wandered towards Jones who was looking at his suspiciously. "They want YOU!" Spencer shouted.

"What? Me?" Jones backed away. "Cut it out Spencer- It's time for your drugs."

"No. NO!" Shawn cried, coming closer and closer to Jones. "The Spirits warn you to stop! They are not pleased with the way you have been treating one of their…" Shawn struggled for the right word, but quickly recovered. ".. Prophets! They say stop and you may live!" Shawn wailed the last bit for emphasis and Jones, though not a true believer, backed himself into a corner and began to reach for his gun.

Opening his eyes only a crack, Shawn saw this and gulped, but only continued to wail.

"NO! Do not shoot the messenger of the spirits or you will be punished!"

It worked. Instantly, Jones took his hand from his gun and raised his hands.

"I am sorry! It was all Shelby's idea! She's the one who wants to marry that stupid detective!"

"If you are truly sorry, release our messenger and you may live!"

Quickly, Jones nodded and got down on his knees.

Quickly, he pushed all his adrenaline out and began to run. Instantly, he felt his left leg shaking with pain, but he wouldn't stop. As soon as he stopped, he would be caught again and again he would be forced to wear that collar and to give in to Shelby's crooked demands. Lassie would have to marry her and Shawn would probably end up dying after he'd outlived his usefulness- besides, she hadn't wanted Jones to shoot him, so how was she going to stop him from escaping.

"STOP!" Shawn heard the shouts from behind him, but he didn't heed them.

He could see the light of a partially opened door and knew it was his only chance.

Pain clouded his vision and made his steps unsteady, but he wouldn't give up, not now, not when he was so close.

Something snapped behind him and Shawn cursed as he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being shot.

A second later, he felt something small, but painful bite into his left leg and he cried out, the pain becoming more than he could bear.

In that moment, he felt his leg crumble and he cursed in a cry of pain.

His aching side hit the hard floor and before his world went black he had one last fleeting thought.

'I guess she's ok with shooting me…'

**TBC**

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long guys. Really- I have been INSANELY busy! This summer I have been gone more than I've been home. I was in Spain for the first part of the summer and then when I got home I immediately had to start working on college stuff. Then, just a few weeks ago, I went to Orlando, Florida for the National Fine Arts festival. Anyway- so, yes! Apologies all around! I am so sorry and know that this story is not abandoned. I am updated it as best as I can and trying to before I start school because I honestly don't think I will be able to write fan fiction after I start school. So! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and I will try to finish this story up in about three or four chapters. Blessings!**


	9. Chapter Nine: Unholy Atrocity

**Chapter Nine**

**Unholy Atrocity**

The first thing Shawn was aware of was that he was laying on something soft.

It was an amazing feeling and he relished in it for a few moments, that is, until pain flared up all over his body.

Gasping, he felt himself pulled back into the world and he opened his eyes slowly, trying to focus on this new setting.

It was dark and it looked much like the freezer he had been locked in before, but this was different. It had a bed, which he realized that he was laying on. It had furnishings- chairs, a couch, a table- all beautiful!

He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating, but as he lay on his back, he realized that this was very much a real place.

Carefully, he tried to lift himself up, but realized that he was stuck. Each time he pulled his torso up- a painful process- his arms were trapped beside him.

Gasping, he looked to his side to see that his arms were locked to the bed in shackles.

His eyes widened as he tried to move again, but the chains would not give.

After a few moments, he fell back, his weakened body too tired to try again.

Looking forward, he saw that his leg, the one that had been shot, was propped up and swathed in some old rags.

They looked highly unsanitary to Shawn and he was certain that they couldn't possibly be clean!

'Great! Just add infection to the list of sicknesses I'm going to suffer!' Shawn rolled his eyes. 'Along with some psychiatric thing…'

Unexpectedly, a door to his right squeaked and he stiffened.

"Good morning!" the honey-sweet voice greeted, making Shawn shiver.

He stayed silent, staring ahead, unmoving and acting unseeing. He let his chest rise and fall evenly, making his body show no fear.

"Silly, silly boy," the voice purred as she stepped into the dim light. She grasped the bed post with slender fingers and pursed her lips. "Running away. What were you thinking? In your current condition. You wouldn't last long enough for anyone to find you! Good thing I caught you before you could go too far."

Slinking around the bed frame, Shelby moved her hand along the bed, her eyes slits as she looked at the psychic.

"What? Nothing to say?" she smirked. "Usually you are so very talkative…" shrugging, she leaned against the mattress, running a finger down his face gently. "Does it hurt that bad?" she looked to his leg and Shawn saw a gleam in her eyes that he was certain he didn't like.

With the unpredictability of a seething cat, she moved, slamming a balled hand down on his wounded leg.

A horrible cry wrenched the musty air. Shawn panted, knowing that it was him who had screamed, but at the same time deliriously wondering who had cried out.

Suddenly trapped between a world of utter pain and delirium he stared at his captor- eyes wide, heart racing. Sweat ran down his face and he felt that his lungs were far too small for his body.

"Oh, did that hurt?" Shelby asked, in a mockingly. "I am sorry." she leaned forward, her lips just an inch from his ear. "Maybe next time, you'll think twice about running." she hissed, her voice lethal, her breath smelling of roses.

Straightening herself, the woman frowned, looking, for the first time, hateful towards Shawn. "Fortunately for you, there won't be a next time. You see, I can't leave you alive after the ceremony." she touched a finger to her lips in thought. "That just won't do. No witnesses. Sorry."

There was silence in the room for a moment and then Shelby clapped.

Immediately, Jones entered the room, limping more heavily, his eyes pools of anger. He was dressed in a black and white tuxedo and in his arms he carried a stunning suite.

"I had the measurements taken while you were asleep- I hope you don't mind." Shelby smiled, all traces of malice gone. "It should fit. Jones will help you get dressed- and do hurry. The groom should be here shortly."

Shawn gulped, looking from Shelby to the suit.

"Um… so… I'm a little confused…" Shawn rasped, trying to get his thoughts in line. "What is the suite for? Why do I need to be in the wedding?" he smiled. "I never did look good all dressed up- just doesn't fit." he could finally feel his wits coming back, though very slowly and half of him was afraid that the psycho-woman might get angry and hit his leg again.

But, instead of getting angry, she laughed. A bone chilling laugh, but a laugh none-the-less.

"My dear, dear boy." she wiped her eyes. "Someone has to marry Carlton and I! And, well, I'm afraid Jones just doesn't have the qualifications!"

Stammering, Shawn gulped down the trepidation that was rising to his throat.

"Well, I never went to school for that- "

"Maybe not, but you are a psychic." she smiled simply and turning, she walked away, heals clicking on the hard concrete.

Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but she was gone and Jones was coming closer, his eyes burning with white-hot fire.

And, for the first time since being kidnapped, Shawn actually wanted Shelby to come back.

_________________________________________

"Juliet! I told you! I have to do this alone! If I come with anyone else, that mad woman- Shelton-"

"It's Shelby…"

"Shelby! Shelton! Whatever! The point is that if she sees so much as a speck of police blue near me, Spencer's a dead man and I'm- well, who knows what I will be."

"A dead, married man." Detective O'Hara put in quietly.

Lassiter turned, rolling his eyes at her.

"It was rhetorical, O'Hara."

"Oh, sorry." the woman detective gulped, looking into the distance where the lonely warehouse stood. It was quite a ways away from where she stood near her police car, but close enough that she wanted to run full long, kick the door open, and search for Shawn. But she knew this couldn't work that way.

"Listen, O'Hara. I have a microphone on me, it's hidden in my pocket napkin. You should be able to hear all of what goes on in there. You listen to where she is taking me, ok. But, before you come after me, find Spencer."

Juliet swallowed.

"Yes, sir." she answered solemnly.

A moment of silence passed between them and Carlton looked at the ground.

"You know, O'Hara. I never say this kind of stuff- but, you've been a good detective. Someone I could depend on. It's been an honor." he nodded at her and was surprised to see her eyes were watery.

Leaping forward, she caught him off guard by hugging him tightly.

Carlton swallowed, unsure of how to return so much physical contact.

Slowly, he reached up and patted her back, at the same time trying to pry himself from her clutches. But the detective wouldn't let go. Her arms were clenched around him and for once, he really wasn't sure what to do.

He coughed awkwardly and Juliet immediately let go, backing away. She looked somber and Carlton could see that her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Whether the tears were for he or Shawn, he couldn't be sure- but he decided that they must be for him. He didn't even want to imagine that they were for the crazy, footloose psychic!

But, though he never really believed Shawn's word that he was a psychic, he was an innocent man who had been kidnapped and that called for Carlton to do what he could to save him. And, truth be told, he had no desire to see Spencer dead or even maimed in any way. He was frustrating and annoying- but did not deserve this.

"Be careful." O'Hara nodded firmly. The tears were gone now so that her eyes merely shimmered.

Lassiter nodded firmly back, placing a hand on Juliet's shoulder.

Silently, he turned away from her, pulling at his tux and walking slowly toward what might be his doom.

_____________________________________________________

Entering the building silently, Carlton kept against the hard metal door of the warehouse, eyes scanning the open area warily.

It had been a long trek to the building and he had no doubts that his tux had probably become rather dusty, but he was inside and, from all he could see, it was empty.

There were some scattered boxes, but nothing that could hide a person.

Stepping forward into the light, he gulped, wishing more than anything that he had his gun- or a club. Maybe even a tazer-

There was a scratching noise to his left and Carlton turned to see that there was an open door.

Quietly, he made his way towards it, careful not to let his dress shoes clatter on the floor.

Lassiter pressed himself against the wall and moved his body so he could look into the dimly lit room, but not be seen.

It took a moment, but his eyes finally adjusted to the light. He stayed still, searching for any sign of life, but he didn't have to search long.

In the middle of the room a man stood unsteadily.

He was hunched slightly and was not looking up, only down at his feet as he wavered. He balanced himself, but from the looks of his wounds, which were quite visible, Lassiter could see why it was so difficult. The man was bloody, bruised, and dirty. His left thigh was wrapped heavily in dirty rags and his hair and clothes were a mess- yet, beneath all this, something seemed familiar about this man.

"Spencer?" he hissed, not wanting to believe that this bedraggled, beaten man was the happy-go-lucky energetic psychic he was looking for..

At Lassiter's call, the man's head snapped up and he locked eyes with Carlton.

At that moment, there was no doubt in the detective's mind that this was Spencer!

"Lassie?" the man's voice was hushed and it cracked, but it was Shawn's voice.

Carlton moved to go and grab the man, but stopped.

This was all too strange. Shawn was quietly standing in the middle of the room- quietly?! That was so unlike Spencer, that Lassiter had to look the man over again.

This couldn't be the real Shawn! Could it? He was so quiet, so serious. Sure, he was broken and bruised nearly beyond recognition- but this was Spencer!

He would normally have given all his possessions to shut the man up and now, he would have given everything else to hear him jabber on!

Shawn was still looking at him, silently. His eyes pleaded with Lassiter and yet, it was not a 'please come and rescue me!' pleading. It was almost as if they were shouting-

"NO!" Carlton jumped back, startled as the psychic wrenched himself forward.

Something hard and round pressed into Carlton's back and he stopped immediately, raising his hands in surrender.

There was no mistaking the feeling of a gun barrel in-between his shoulder blades.

Now it all made sense! The captors had set up a trap for him and, like it had started out, Shawn had been the bait.

Looking up, Lassiter locked eyes with the psychic who was still standing shakily in the middle of the room, unmoving.

Spencer had been warning him all along! And he'd still fell for the trap!

He felt the gun press him forward and a grunt from behind urged him on towards the center of the room.

They stopped in front of Shawn and now, Carlton could get a good look at the psychic.

The man was worse than he'd seemed before, if that was even possible.

His skin was covered with bruises and his eyes were dark, full of horror. He didn't smile or laugh, he hardly even moved, save his body's constant shaking.

Carlton imagined the Shawn was probably in shock.

There were too many wounds for him alone to process and it was no wonder that Spencer's brain couldn't process them all either.

"Spencer?" Carlton spoke gruffly, trying to hide the worry in his voice. "You alright?"

Slowly, Shawn looked up and Lassiter saw something- a glimmer- in his eyes.

"Oh yeah. I always wanted to be shot by a mad-woman, dragged to your wedding, and then left to die in a warehouse while you two go honeymoon it up. Sounds great."

Lassiter smiled, though only briefly. At least Shawn was still in there, or at least some of him was.

A clacking from the large room beyond brought Lassiter's attention to the doorway and he turned, slowly so as not to startle the gunman.

Through the darkness, a shape emerged, brilliant and shining and for a moment, Carlton thought it was some sort of angel come to rescue he and Shawn- unfortunately, Carlton didn't believe in angels so that was out the minute it came to his brain.

Staring, he saw the woman slide forward gracefully, he hair flowing as she walked and her white dress trailing behind her.

Her face was elegant and shimmering with powder and for a split second, Lassiter could do nothing but stare at her, his mouth agape.

She was beautiful!

"That's her-" Shawn broke him from his trance. "The killer of dreams!"

Frustrated by his own lack of professionalism, Carlton spun on Shawn.

"Don't you think I figured that out!"

Spencer smiled smugly.

"I'm getting a reading…" he hissed, touching his temple. "You… you like her."

Angered, Lassiter snuffed.

"No." he rolled his eyes and tried to look disinterested as the woman came to stand before him, her eyes bright an shining in triumph.

"Do to." Shawn shot back.

The woman turned her head to him and glared.

"Silence." she hissed and Lassiter was taken aback. She was definitely more feisty than she first appeared. "This is my wedding and I want it perfect." she looked to Lassiter and taking a step forward moved to grab his hand.

"Should've thought of that before you decided to kidnap the minister and groom…" Shawn whispered in a hushed tone, but the remark was not lost on Shelby.

The woman turned her eyes to him, both burning with angry passion. She looked ready to shoot the psychic right there, but as soon as she'd reacted, she was somber again and had turned back to Lassiter, her eyes trained on him.

He looked down, into her eyes, seeing a depth of emotion there that he couldn't understand.

Carlton still had no clue who this woman was! She was beautiful, he had to admit that- but, he didn't know her!

"Oh, Carlton." she cooed, looking as though she just wanted to jump up and kiss him. "I've waited so long for this moment. I know you do not know me very well- but from the moment I met you, I knew we had a special bond. I could so easily remember what you wanted every morning at 8:00!"

"Every morning? At 8:00?" Lassiter looked bewildered and frightened.

"Oh yes. It was the best time of the day!" she leaned herself against Carlton who was obviously very concerned at the fact that she was so close.

"Excuse me!" he tried to push her away, obviously uncomfortable, but she wouldn't budge.

Finally, not at all because of Lassiter's nudging, Shelby rose to her full height and looked to Spencer momentarily before turning her loving gaze back on Lassiter.

"We are ready."

"No we are not." Lassiter looked around the room.

"Yes we are, go ahead Mr. Spencer."

Lassiter was about to speak when he caught her words.

"'Go ahead Mr. Spencer'?" he nearly shrieked. "What do you mean? Surely he's not…"

"Yes, oh yes!"

Lassiter looked to Shawn and gaped.

"You're not gonna…"

Shawn sighed and straightened himself up with a quick look at Jones, who had now backed away from Lassiter and was watching the marriage with a smirk.

"Dearly… well…" Shawn shrugged. "Jones. We are gathered here today to join these two together in… some kind of wedding thingy-"

"Holy matrimony!" Shelby hissed, still hugging Carlton who was now glaring daggers at Shawn.

"Holy matrimony? That'll never do!" Shawn tipped his head and scratched his chin. "Ah! How about an unholy atrocity? It has a nice ring!"

Before Shelby could move, Shawn had turned his eyes up to Lassiter, humor glinting in their depths. And yet, behind their depths, there was a seriousness that Carlton had never seen. Immediately, he understood.

Spencer was going to help them escape!

**TBC**

**A/N: So! I am trying to finish this before Friday, hence the kind of rushed writing. Hope it's not too awful. I leave for school on Friday and I don't know that I will be able to update after that, so- hopefully I can finish before then!**

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews, I am glad you all like it so much. As for the incorrect spelling and grammar- totally sorry about that! I have been trying to proofread, I just haven't had the time. I did try and proof-read this chapter, but of course, things do go missed, so I do apologize for future mistakes. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter Ten: And So the End

**Chapter Ten**

**And So the End**

Shawn couldn't remember the last time he'd been so lost for words.

He'd been carrying on for about an hour now, mostly rambling, and though Shelby had gotten aggravated, she hadn't stopped him yet.

This was not at all how he'd planned it to go.

In his mind, after him making jokes and acting like an idiot for about ten minutes, Shelby would have gotten upset and begun beating him to a pulp, giving Lassie the chance to attack Jones. Of course, Shawn himself would get rid of the crazy woman… well, ok. After Lassie was done with Jones, he would take care of the crazy woman.

But now, it'd been at least an hour and Shawn's brain was shutting down on him. It was becoming more and more difficult for him to come up with quirky quips and jokes. Slowly, the pain had begun to rip through him. Minute by minute he felt his body failing and the corners of his vision had began to darken.

And still Shelby stood there, her eyes fastened on Lassie.

It was sickening.

Why couldn't she just get mad already?!

Still talking, he turned his eyes to Jones who had been looking increasingly bored. In fact, he had begun to look more aggravated than Shelby.

But now, to Shawn's joy, instead of looking peeved, he was snoring!

Softly, albeit, but he was snoring, none the less.

Still speaking, Shawn worked to make the wheels of his head turn.

He had to find a way to get he and Lassie out of there- preferably before he fainted!

* * *

Juliet stood anxiously, her eyes focused on the warehouse.

A part of her wished she had some sort of x-ray vision so she could shoot the entire building down and quickly rescue both Shawn and Carlton from their doom.

Of course, she had no real idea what would happen to Carlton. It seemed to her that so long as the kidnapper got to marry him, Detective Lassiter might go on to live a happy life. But Juliet knew that Shawn wouldn't be so lucky.

Though he tried, the man had no charm to speak of- alright, not the real kind of heroic charm. It was more of the I'm-an-idiot-don't-you-love-it charm. At least, that was what she thought of it and, though he was a bit aggravating at times, he wasn't always a pain.

Sometimes- very rarely- she enjoyed his humor and quick tongue.

Sighing, the detective tapped her shoe against the gravel, finally running out of patience.

Carlton had been inside the warehouse for at least an hour!

Scanning the surrounding area, she stopped when her eyes landed on a large wooden box. It was tall enough to fit her and just large enough around that she could stand in it.

With a smile, the detective left her car and began to trot towards the warehouse, her eyes never leaving the front doors.

* * *

"I have a story to share with the happy couple…" Shawn feigned a cough and began. "Once there was a pineapple. The tasty yellow fruit was sad because it had no one to love. Well, one day, it met a… Papyaya- yes! A papaya! The Pineapple loved the papaya and-"

Shelby turned slowly, looking at him with fire burning in her eyes.

"Excuse me." she hissed. "Does this have anything to do with Calrton and I? I didn't hire you for story time!"

"Well, if we are being technical- you didn't hire me at all… But if you are wanting to start a business transaction, I will take pineapples as a form of payment." Shawn smiled and when he did, he saw something in Shelby's eyes snap. Unfortunately it wasn't a sane snap- it was a very mind bending, fire-breathing, in-need-of-a-straightjacket-snap.

With a growl, the woman turned from Lassiter, who was blinking rapidly, obviously confused by the sudden change in events, and made her way toward Shawn.

Gulping with a nervous smile, the man limping backward, knowing that when you could see your own coffin reflected in a woman's eyes that it could not be a good thing.

Shawn felt the world swimming around him and the colors began to melt around him into a swirl of vibrant tie-died hues. Black was rimming his vision and the pain from continuing his backward escape was taking it's toll. The adrenaline was fading and he knew that if someone didn't step in, this woman ripping apart piece by piece would be the last thing he saw.

"Lassie!" he called out for the detective weakly, but when he looked back, he saw that both he and Jones were dueling it out. Unfortunately, with two guns at his disposal, Jones was winning. This was not how things were supposed to end!

With his concentration distracted, Shawn felt the back of his feet connect with something. Grunting, he felt head first over a crate, his body crashing to the ground in a single overwhelming thud.

Everything that had been in his vision disappeared momentarily and Shawn was left, laying blindly on the floor. Sounds echoed in his ears and it was becoming suddenly difficult to breath. He felt something grabbing him by his torn clothing and pulling him away from the box, but he could do nothing but let them pull him.

In an instant, his sight returned and he was met face to face with a very angry kidnapper/murderer.

Shawn gasped and tried to move, but he had no energy left in his broken and starved body. What he wouldn't have given for a Monster or Rockstar drink right now!

He cringed as Shelby moved closer, her blazing eyes connecting with his swimming vision.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this moment!" she hissed. "You've been a thorn in my side for long enough, Spencer. Now, it's time for you to go and meet those spirits you talk to so often! Say hello to them for me!"

With a flash, Shelby had pulled out a knife and he could see her eyes aiming straight for his heart.

He gulped, breathing deeply what would be his last breaths. He tried to make his mind work to come up with some quick quip that would stop her, but his brain wouldn't focus and his eyesight was fading fast. He could feel his heart thumping against his breast and his life began to flash before his eyes.

He wasn't too old, but his life had been filled with so much. Not a lot of important things- but all had been fun and well worthwhile!

Shawn blinked, looking up once more to see Shelby watching him, waiting for a reaction. But he would give none and she could obviously see that now.

"Say goodbye Spencer." her voice boomed, much like the shot of a gun.

She plunged for him, but something stopped her. Shelby halted with a cry. Something began to drip from her lips and her eyes grew dull. And yet, even as her sight grew dull, she aimed and began the plunge again, her body growing lifeless as she fell.

Shawn felt the blade pierce him and everything sparked, sending flashes of light everywhere. His hearing began to fade and his sight blurred to blackness. Even as he was lost to the world, he could hear someone calling his name, someone touching him. He tried to hold onto life, he held tightly as he'd never before! But in the end, even though the voices screamed for him to come back, he couldn't make his body obey him.

* * *

"Shawn?" Juliet called, running for him, her gun still smoking from the shot. "Shawn?! SHAWN!" Quickly, she grabbed Shelby's body and threw it aside.

Beneath Shelby lay Shawn, his eyes shut and breathing shallow and raspy. She looked him up and down, barely able to take in all she saw. Her eyes stopped as she saw a knife protruding from his chest. She gasped, not daring to touch it.

"SHAWN! Come on Shawn! Shawn! Can you hear me?"

Lassiter, already on his cell phone, which had been confiscated form Jones, was already with 911 and was talking urgently to them.

"I need an ambulance at 2354 North Wibley Road- now! We have a man down. He has multiple critical injuries including a knife to his chest!" Carlton bent down, gently pulling away any of Spencer's clothes that he could, searching for more wounds. "Yeah, he has multiple bullet wounds as well."

Juliet just sat, willing Shawn to come back to them, to jump up and tell them he was fine, like he normally would have. But he was in no condition to do that and she knew it. Something wet slid down her cheek and she moved quickly to wipe it away.

What kind of person could do this to a man like Shawn. Sure, he was obnoxious sometimes and a little nosy, but he was altogether a friendly guy.

"Juliet, the medics are on their way. I need you to stay with Shawn. I need to make sure the area is secure."

Juliet nodded mutely, not meeting Carlton's gaze.

"Hey!" she felt someone touch her shoulder and Juliet looked up to see Lassiter looking at her piercingly, his blue eyes worried but strong. "He'll be alright. Don't worry. Spencer's too strong-willed to give in to death this easily. Just stay with him- I'll call you if I need you." he nodded firmly and she did the same, though in her heart she was shaking like a leaf in the autumn.

* * *

Shawn had been moved to the hospital. He was a medical miracle to the doctors who couldn't see how a man so abused and broken could've made it this far and still be breathing. Juliet was thankful for this. He'd stopped breathing twice on the way to the hospital, but they'd brought him back.

Spencer was laying in the ICU now, hooked up to so much junk that neither Juliet or Carlton could find tell where one tube began and another ended. Not to mention that he was a mere shadow of a man underneath all the blankets. It was definitely not the Shawn they remembered when either of them walked into his room.

And though it was hard on the two of them, it was almost deadly for Henry Spencer and Gus. Gus had taken off time at his work to stay with Shawn, afraid of what might happen if he was gone. And, though Henry wouldn't admit it, he stayed with Shawn as often as the doctor's would let him. Sometimes he would even stay the entire night, and if the doctors wouldn't let him do that, he would sleep in the waiting room.

It had been a week since Shawn had been rescued. Jones was in custody, awaiting a trial and his boss, Shelby was dead and buried. She'd had no family to mourn her death, so Lassiter did the most noble thing he could and paid for everything. He hadn't been fond of the woman, of course, but something inside of him couldn't let her death go unnoticed.

One evening, Lassiter had just come back from the office, putting the rest of the case in order. All they needed was Shawn's testimony, but at this point, none knew if they'd ever get it.

The man was still weak from all he'd been through and he had yet to awaken. And even if he did, the doctor had informed them that his mental state may not be the same. In fact, they had assured the four that it wouldn't be the same. Not to mention the physical damage done to the man's vocal cords by Shelby's collar, well, it would be a wonder if he ever spoke again.

Carlton moved to the ICU room that Shawn was in and, seeing Henry there he tried to smile, but his smile turned to a frown when he saw how haggard Henry looked. He was hunched and looked exhausted.

"Why don't you go and get something to eat. I'll watch over Shawn." he coughed a little, feeling awkward. He had never been extremely close to the Spencer's and so it was strange to be so.. Well, friendly to them. Mr. Spencer was a good man, and he'd been excellent on the force. He was almost like a hero to Lassiter, but of course, Lassiter would never admit that.

Henry stretched a little and shook his head.

"I can't leave him." Henry looked to Lassiter. "We've never been terribly close. It's sad that it takes something like this to bring a father and son together."

Carlton nodded, not knowing what to say.

Henry rose to his feet, moving to the solitary window and watching as the sun began to set.

"Well, do you mind if I sit. I can't go home, not with this case so fresh in my mind."

Henry nodded, not saying a word, but staring out at the world as the sky turned blood red.

* * *

Pain, Dulled, but still very present washed over his body as he felt himself press into the realm of consciousness.

Shawn wanted to breath deeply, but each time he tried, he felt constricted. He began to cough lightly, feeling his throat and vocal cords shudder hard against their sudden use.

He opened his eyes, trying to focus as the world came into a blurry existence. All around him was a bight whiteness that was stifling and stale. Shawn groaned, closing his eyes and opening them again, taking another slow even breath.

He could hear the raspiness in his breathing and frowned, suddenly feeling like he'd been run over by a semi-truck. Shawn was sure he was dead, probably in hell. This place seemed horrible enough from what he knew of hell.

He turned his head to look to the side and saw someone familiar sitting beside him. He blinked and opened his mouth, his voice coming out in a very harsh, crackling way.

"Lassie?" at the sound of his name, the detective jumped, blinking. "I didn't know you died too?"

Lassiter blinked a few more times, standing to his feet and looking around the room.

"Who? What?"

"Down h-here, boy." Shawn whistled, a smile coming to his lips.

Carlton stepped back, bumping into the bed side chair as he stared with wide-eyes at Shawn.

"Spencer? Y-you talked? You-you're awake?!" he looked as though he'd seen a ghost.

Shawn didn't really know what to say to that so he just shrugged.

"You're alive!"

"If you say so. Back to haunt you forever."

At this, Lassiter smiled, something Shawn hadn't known he could do.

"You are!" Carlton jumped and hugged the prone man tightly. "You're alive!"

All the breath was pressed from Shawn and he gasped as his injuries were pressed. He tried to press Lassiter away, but he was still quite weak and so he just had to lay there and take it.

"L-Lassie. Please. Can't breathe." the man leapt back, obviously realizing how much emotion he was showing. He coughed and straightened up, his face placid again.

"Well, it's good to see you. It'd be so much more work to have a casualty to report."

"Thanks, Lassie. Good to see you too."

"Shawn?!"

Spencer turned his head to the door and saw as a lovely woman entered, her eyes brimming with tears. She ran forward, ready to envelope him in a huge bear hug, which Shawn wouldn't have necessarily minded- but lassie stopped her.

"Let's not kill him with emotion, ok."

She smiled with a nod, still staring at Shawn.

In behind Juliet had walked Henry Spencer. He had watched the whole in silence and now, he approached the bed, his eyes smiling, but everything else about him was stoic and unmoved.

"Well, Shawn. I see you finally decided to wake up."

"Ya, thanks for the welcome Dad."

"Not a problem. Wouldn't have to if you'd get a normal job like Gus."

"Well, let's face it- I'm special. A normal job just wouldn't be able to handle my awesome skill."

Henry rolled his eyes and Juliet just smiled. Shawn was back to his normal self- though, she couldn't help but wonder if there was a part of him that had been affected by such a traumatic experience.

"Should somebody call Burton Guster, let him know Spencer is awake?" Lassiter asked, feeling a little awkward.

Shawn smiled.

"Nah. He'll figure it out sooner or later."

**THE END**

**A/N: So sorry for the long wait. I kept meaning to finish this, but then something would come up. Plus I had to come up with an appropriate ending. J Hope you all enjoyed it. Blessings!**


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